They had little choice but to follow Davos, despite their apprehension. Of all the things she had tried to anticipate, being escorted to the king by the high council was not on the list. Just inside the gate, some groomsmen in red livery took their horses and Davos ushered them further into the city.

Even in the middle of the oddest, and perhaps most dangerous situation she had ever been in, the beauty of Kingsland took her breath. The sun made rooftops glitter with gold and silver. Kingsland, like the gate that guarded it, was made with the help of elves and their magic. Even the meanest home lining the streets looked like small palaces. And the actual palaces that overlooked the city were something from a fairytale with slender fluted columns and smooth milky marble faces. The people in the streets were a striking contrast to their city, their dark hair and clothes standing out against the vibrant backdrop. Beads, twinkling in their hair, were the only splash of color. The few people they were close enough to see looked ashen and pale, even for Aurelians. And none bothered to look at them or anything around them.

Over the homes and shops, palaces and fountains, loomed the castle. Smooth gray stone with half a dozen peaked towers. It was elegant, but there was no doubt about its purpose: a fortress. It was towards the castle they walked, slowly winding through the paved streets of the capital.

Oddly, it was only Davos that accompanied them. They passed countless guards, but they paid them no mind except the occasional nod to the counselor. Del had no idea what was happening, but the absurdity of them willingly marching to their capture and likely deaths finally overcame her. She stopped, and the others halted behind her.

“I’m sorry, but you can’t expect us to just…what? Present ourselves to the king? Beg not to be executed?”

“What,” Davos said distractedly. “Of course not. We are entering through the old tunnels. The others will meet us there.”

“I…old tunnels? What others?”

“The others of the council. The ones who know our plan. The old tunnels are the best way to meet without prying ears. But we must hurry, while the king is still busy with the assembly of mages.”

“Told you it would still be going,” Shorgus said.

“Entoris’ estimate of your arrival was two days ago,” Davos said. “He also said there would be four, not five. But no matter. We have very little time now.”

“Entoris?” Both Del and Albaran said together.

“Yes, yes,” the little man said. “Now please, we must make haste.” He sat off again down the city streets. Wymar followed him without hesitation. Maug shrugged when Del raised an eyebrow at him.

“We wanted in, right?”

When they reached the great stone steps leading up to the castle, Davos turned and entered a courtyard beside them. They wound through what looked like gardens, but without a living plant in sight.

“It’s a shame you couldn’t see the north garden in bloom. It is a sight. Seems nothing will grow this year, though.” He sighed sadly and made his way past a number of smaller doors, each with its own guard.

Finally, he stopped at the door that looked like all the rest and waved merrily to the bored-looking guard there.

“Good day, guardsman,” he said with so much false cheer it made Del cringe. “I am escorting a lady and her retainers to the kitchen.”

The guard didn’t appear to care what Davos was doing and simply nodded and opened the door for them. The long hallway beyond the door was cool and shadowed.

“Quickly, quickly,” Davos muttered as he scurried down the winding corridors, deeper and deeper into the castle. Eventually, the well lit corridors changed to dank tunnels with sputtering torches.

Davos rounded a corner and halted with a squeak. A tall woman in dark blue had a dagger at his throat. Del grabbed for her own blade under her skirts.

“It’s me, Ambris,” Davos said. “I’ve brought them.” The woman looked the party over and nodded before taking her dagger away.

“About time,” was all she said before turning away.

The tunnel ended in an open room. Dusty barrels and crates were stacked high on the walls. A man with silver in his hair and a large birthmark on his cheek joined the woman.

“You,” Del said. The man bowed.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Pleasant to see you again, Evandella.”

“You two know each other?” Maug asked.

“Not exactly. But we spent a long night chased through the woods by him. And if I am not mistaken, he sent a few goons to kill us shortly after.”

“Oh.”

“An unfortunate misunderstanding,” the man with the birthmark said. “I didn’t know who you were at the time.”

“But you do now?”

“Ah, yes. I assumed you were in league with those trying to hide the boy,” he nodded to Wymer. “I just recently learned you yourself were the heir Entoris had risked everything to put forward. So many surprises these last few days.”

“I am the heir.” Wymar stepped forward. “Not her.”

“Hmmm,” the man said. “Yes.” He made another, deeper bow to Wymar. “I am Christof Malor of the high council. You have already met my counterparts, Devos and Ambris.” The woman stepped forward and gave Del a small bow.

“I knew your father,” she said. “He was a good man. I can see him in you.” Del took an uncomfortable step back.

“What exactly are we doing here?” She asked. She didn’t like Christof, and it wasn’t because he had tried to kill her once, or not just that, at least. He had an air about him that reminded her of everything she hated about her people.

“We are here to install a true Wranbanise to the throne, of course.”

“Why?” Del asked. Christof gave her a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, but it was Davos that answered.

“Because the land is dying,” he said, wringing his hands. “We did not know…Entoris never told us what would happen. If we do not right this soon, Aurelia will wither away.”

“Aurelia and everyone else?” Del asked.

“Yes, yes,” Davos said, but it was clear that ‘everyone else’ was an afterthought.

“I am grateful you have come,” Christof said to Wymar. “Now in our time of greatest need. The transition may be...trying, but I will be here to help you every step of the way. Do not worry.”

“And you expect the guy currently on the throne to just step down quietly because you say so?” Maug asked.

“Gisemere may dislike the idea,” Ambris said. “But with the Ring of Proving, he will have little choice. You have the ring, yes?”

“I do,” Del said.

“Perhaps it is best you leave it with us,” Christof said.

“No.”

“No?” He asked. He stepped closer to Wymar and placed a hand on the younger man’s shoulder. "Well, as long as the rightful king has it when the time comes, it doesn't matter who carries it."

“We must hurry. I will call an assembly,” Ambis said. “When all is in place, we will send for you. Until then, stay here and be quiet.”

“I will have fresh clothes sent for you as well. We must make a strong presentation to the council.” He bowed to Wymar again, and the three left.

“I really don’t like this,” Maug said, after they were gone. He, Del, and Shorgus had found a corner to sit and wait. Wymar was pacing the other side of the room and refusing to look at any of them. Albaran was standing stiffly in the middle of the room, watching over the future king.

“I have to agree,” Shorgus said. He was busily poking in the barrels along the wall. “Do you think any of these are ale?”

“Is this not what we came to do?” Albaran said. “Wymar will take the throne and, with his blood, the magic will be right again.

“I doubt this will go anything like those councilors think.” Del said.

“And even if it does,” Maug said quietly, “we are talking about putting an unhinged child on the throne and then hoping he lets us walk away. Something tells me that guy holds grudges.” He looked over at Wymar, who was still ignoring them. “And that Christof fellow has already tried to do us in once. I doubt he’ll be too broken up if the new king’s first order of business is hanging us all.”

“It is what we came to do,” the ranger said again.

“Well,” Shorgus said. “I still think Del should take the throne. That would solve all our troubles, yes?”

“All except the part where I’m left in this serpent's den to lead a bunch of idiots who think they are better than everyone else, including me. With at least two other people who will happily see me dead to regain the throne.”

“Except that, yes.” He pulled out his little pink cup and filled it.

Del sighed and sat on one of the overturned crates. She pulled the cord from under her shirt and looked at the ring hanging on it. Her father’s ring. She remembered the day Entoris had given it to her. He had explained its importance, what it meant to her and the kingdom, but all she saw was a connection to the father she had never known. The possibility that he had left something just for her, that he had cared. That was the real reason she had taken it when she left Bellon.

“Give me that,” Wymar was standing over her. “The ring is mine now.”

“Not yet, it’s not,” she said, tucking the ring away again. “When it comes time for you to take the throne, then it will be yours.”

“You have no right…”

“I’ve got more right than you do. Don’t forget that,” she said. He went back to pacing the other side of the room.

About an hour later, a servant entered with a tray of bread and cheese and a small package of clothes for Wymar. Del wasn’t surprised he was the only one Christof cared to make presentable. She watched as Albaran helped Wymar dress and braid his hair.

“They at least could have sent wine,” Shorgus muttered as the servant left them to wait in silence again.

It seemed to Del like hours passed in the dark cellar under the castle. Her father’s castle, she realized. He had met her mother here. He had lived and died here. The thoughts made her sad. Maug came to sit on a crate next to her. He didn’t speak, but she felt better for having him there. Shorgus and Albaran joined them. When Ambris returned, that is how she found them.

“It is time,” she said.